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mcneill's 

Last 

Charge 



AN ACCOUNT OF A 



IN THE 



CIVIL WAR 



BY 



Rev. J. W. DUFFEY, D. D. 



C4 









MCNEILL'S 

LAST 

CHARGE 



£T6~, 

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■Mf% 



COPYRIGHT 1912 

BY 

J. W. DUFFEY 




The Geo F. Norton Pub. Co. 
Winchester, Va. 



/ 

$18 

T(aL 



©CU318325 



THE publication of McNeill's East 
Charge is made possible by the 
generosity of Dr. Joseph I. Triplet t. of 
Mt. Jackson, Virginia, himself a mem- 
ber of McNeill's Command and a gal- 
lant soldier, with whose compliments, 
as with those also of the writer, the 
narrative is presented to the surviving 
members of McNeill's Partisan Hang- 
ers. 

J. W. DUFFEY. 
Winchester, Virginia . 
July, 1912. 




Captain John H. McNeill 



KETCHES of McN. 



ems exploits, which have ap- 
Jw peared from time to time, have passed by with 

(L slight mention of the most tragic event in his 

„. y career — that in which the daring leader met his 
fate at Mt. Jackson, Virginia, October 3, 1864. 
At the request of the surviving officers and many 
of the private members of McNeill's Command, 
the following account is furnished by one who 
participated in that brief but eventful campaign. 

The Command was known as McNeill's Partisan Rangers, 
commissioned by the Confederate authorities, and organized 
by ( aptain McNeill, in the summer of 1862. His rallying point 
was Moorefield, Hardy County, West Virginia, but the records 
show that his operations ranged through the counties of Hardy, 
Hampshire, Mineral, Grant and Pendleton in West Virginia, 
and into Maryland, Pennsylvania and the Valley of Virginia. 
His roster scarcely reached two hundred men, and his active 
strength was usually limited to one-fourth that number, and yet 
he threatened in rapid succession so many strategic points oc- 
cupied by the enemy, it is safe to say that, from first to last, lie 
held at bay twenty-five thousand Federals who otherwise would 
have gone to strengthen the forces in front of General Lee. 
Considering the actual number of his fighting force, his cap- 
tures, especially of prisoners, will compare favorably with those 
of any other Confederate leader. 

As the capture by McNeill's men of Major-Generals Crook 
and Kelley in Cumberland, Maryland, is a widely-known in- 
cident of the civil war, and as that capture was made after the 
death of Captain McNeil, it may not be improper to state here 



that Captain McNeill's son, Lieutenant Jesse C. McNeill, was 
in command on the Cumberland raid. That remarkable cap- 
ture was engineered by John B. Fay, a native of Cumberland, 
and one of the most intrepid of the Rangers. 

The latter part of September, 18G4, Sheridan's army ad- 
vanced up the Shenandoah Valley to Harrisonburg, holding 
Winchester, sixty-seven miles in his rear, as a base of supplies. 
Captain McNeill concluded to make a reconnaisance of that 
intermediate territory with a view of intercepting one of Sheri- 
dan's supply trains. Accordingly, on September 30th, he 
picked out of his Command about fifty men, and, leaving 
Lieut. I. S. Welton in command of the camp in the Cove, a 
favorite rendevous girded by mountains in the eastern part of 
Hardy County, he started on what proved to be his last expe- 
dition. 

That evening he camped near Orkney Springs, and dis- 
patched Joseph and John Triplett to Mt. Jackson, their native 
town, twelve miles distant, to ascertain whether or not any of 
Sheridan's wagon trains were in that section. 

The Valley pike, a macadamized road which passes through 
Mt. Jackson, was the military highway of the Shenandoah 
Valley, and running parrellel with it on the west side of the 
Valley are two roads, known as the Middle and the Back road, 
the distance between them varying from two to four miles. 
But the intervening hills obstruct, for the most part, the view 
from one road to the other. 

Before his scouts had time to report from Mt. Jackson, 
McNeill was informed of a wagon train moving down the Val- 
ley below Edinburg, ten miles north of Mt. Jackson. He de- 



camped at once, and so effectually eluded his own scouts that 
they failed to strike his trail again. At daybreak he was on 
the Back road proceeding down the Valley; but not until late 
in the afternoon could a position be secured near enough to the 
pike to ascertain the strength of the train guard. From a hill- 
top, almost due west of Middletown, could be seen a hundred 
wagons moving leisurely down the pike; but, alas, there could 
be seen also a line of infantry covering both sides of the train, 
a guard of at least fifteen hundred men. 

Ordinarily men accept conditions of fatigue and hunger 
with a measure of equanimity if something worth while has 
been accomplished, but that night when the Rangers camped 
near the mountain, there was absolutely nothing to nibble at, 
not even " food for reflection " — a hard day's ride, followed 
by a night of fasting, if not one of prayer. 

The next day, returning up the Back road, McNeill learned 
that a guard of a hundred cavalry had been posted by Sheri- 
dan at a bridge about a mile south of Mt. Jackson. He con- 
sidered, if that guard could be captured and the bridge burned, 
Sheridan's supply trains would be interrupted and a fresh sup- 
ply of horses secured. He therefore determined to make the 
attack at daybreak next morning. Meanwhile his force was 
being reduced from sheer exhaustion. The men could survive, 
but many of the horses had reached the limit of endurance. 
One man, escaping the Captain's eye, rode to a farm house in 
quest of horse feed, but the granary was empty, if not "swept 
and garnished." To establish her loyalty, however, to the 
Rangers, the lone woman of the house produced what the boys 
called " bread and spread " — a slice an inch thick cut clear 



across the loaf, covered with butter and topped off with a liber- 
al layer of apple-butter — the taste whereof lingers still. 

When we reached a point opposite Edinburg, heavy can- 
nonading up the Valley could be distinctly heard, and assum- 
ing that Sheridan and Earle were engaged in battle, McNeill 
decided to burn the bridge at Edinburg, hoping thereby to re- 
tard Sheridan if he should ivtre.it. Four men were detailed 
to execute the order. The sudden appearance of four Con- 
federates in the street was a new sensation in the village. 
That typical autumnal afternoon of October 2d was probably 
Sunday, for the women and children who crowded the doors 
were " fixed up" in neat looking calico dresses, the best out- 
fit which the times afforded. When it became known 
that the purpose of the Confederates was to burn the bridge, 
the sensation reached its climax. The women refused to give 
matches or fire, because, they insisted, if the bridge was burned, 
the Federals would retaliate by burning the village. Swayed 
between sympathy and duty, as wasCoriolanus before the gates 
of Rome, those Confederates affected to fire the bridge with an 
armful of straw which, it was believed, would make a smoke 
that McNeill could see from the adjoining hill, but which would 
not ignite the timbers of the bridge — nor did it. Returning 
to the shelter of the hills, he rested his men and horses for a 
few hours and then started for Mt. Jackson. 

The bridge over the Shenandoah, about a mile and a half 
south of Mt. Jackson, was an important link in the chain of 
connection between Sheridan's army and his base of supplies, 
and of first importance in the emergency of a retreat. He had 
ordered what was considered a sufficiently strong guard — a 

8 



hundred men — detached from the 8th Ohio Cavalry, to protect 
that point. The guard-camp was located near the south end 
of the bridge, and on the east side of the pike. 

McNeill assumed that the point of least resistance would 
be the rear, or east side of the camp. He advanced under 
cover of night along the west side of the Valley, and passed 




Mt. Jackson Bridge, near which Captain McNeill was wounded. 



quite four miles south of the camp, then taking an easterly 
course, crossing the Shenandoah River at Netf's ford, thence 
to Meems' bottoms. To reach the point of attack, his line of 
march described a half circle of eight miles. Within four 
hundred yards of the camp the column was halted, a line of 



attack formed, and orders were given in a low tone. The ad- 
vance was to be made in a walking gait, a straight-line-front 
to be preserved until the command to " charge " should be 
given: then, with a yell, to drive spurs and dash among the 
tents, each man to become his own commander. 

McNeill preferred not to attack in the dark, but rather as 
the first gray dawn appeared, yet he found that to linger then 
would be so extremely hazardous, he decided to attack at once. 
The advance was made in due order and quiet, even the tramp 
of the horses was muffled by the sod of the meadow. The out- 
line of the tents could be discerned by the dim light of the 
camp fires. 

Scarcely half the intervening space had been passed when 
the silence was broken by the call of the camp-guard to "halt," 
and simultaneously he fired a shot. McNeill's response was 
prompt, and his voice rang with its old-time vigor, "Charge! " 
With a wild yell his men dashed toward the first row of tents, 
but at that point there was a momentary pause in the center of 
the line, the two wings of the line curving meanwhile toward 
the center, forming a crescent, and at the same time pistols and 
carbines were cracking in every direction, though it was still 
too dark to distinguish a friend from a foe. But the pause was 
only momentary. It was as if men accustomed to following 
an intrepid leader required a second thought to make self- 
leadership real. Then, like the drop of a thunderbolt, the 
whole troop was in the midst of the camp, each man grappling 
with whatever conditions he found. 

On the right, Davy Parsons had just passed the first tent 
when a tall Yankee, already mounted, made a dash at him with 

10 



drawn saber, but Parson's shot was too ([nick for him, and the 
man fell from his horse. Parsons jumped down to secure his 
pistol, and had hardly done so before he was face to face with 
two other Yankees on the ground. With a pistol in each hand 
he leveled on Hie two men at tic sam a time, both of whom af- 
fected to surrender, but while he was disarming one, the other 
slipped behind a horse and disappeared. 

On the first charge, Bob Lobb's horse ran off and, leap- 
ing camp fires, skipping tents and escaping shots, carried him 
beyond the camp. But wheeling, Lobb was soon in the midst 
of things, ai id while this scribe, with an empty pistol, was en- 
deavoring to persuade a brother in blue to " behave himself," 
Lobb appeared on the scene with five loaded revolvers and set- 
tled the "controversy" without a casualty. W. H. Pool dashed 
through the camp and overtook some of the escaping enemy, 
and brought down one with a bullet whom his word could not 
stop. Among the tents and on the outskirts thirty Rangers 
were desperately busy dealing with a hundred Federals. In 
less time than it takes to tell the story the work was done. 

But meanwhile, and before firing had ceased, it was whis- 
pered that Captain McNeill was shot. Parsons, who is re- 
ferred to above, was in pursuit of his third Yankee when he 
discovered the ( 5aptain on the ground . He had fallen inside the 
first line of tents, and was lying on his left side with his head 
raised on his elbow. George Little, whom we called "Mammy" 
because he was our commissary, was at his side, and soon others 
came, among them Lieut. Jesse 0. McNeill. The wounded Cap- 
tain outlined the route which the men and prisoners should 
take and then added, " move at once and leave me to my fate." 

11 



By the time the men and prisoners were in line, the Cap- 
tain had been lifted to his saddle by Parsons, Little, Wayne 
Cosner, Nelson Kiracoffe and Marcellus Alexander. One man 




Rev. Addison Weller 



led the horse, while the others with difficulty supported the 
Captain. It was hoped he could be taken out of the enemy's 
lines, but before proceeding half a mile it became evident his 

12 



condition was too serious for him to be moved at all. The 
nearest dwelling was on the pike about a mile south of the 
camp, and was occupied by Rev. Addison Weller, a Methodist 
preacher. In the side yard of that house the Captain was 
lifted from his horse, a swift and tough little roan he had cap- 
tured near John Arnold's, on Knobly Mountain, West Vir- 
ginia, in his first exploit as leader of the Rangers, and which 
had served him in practically all his campaigns. 

As he lay on the grass, his men, with sixty prisoners and 
horses, filed through the same gate, many of them lingering in 
pathetic devotion at the side of their suffering chief. When 
all had passed and the column was heading toward the moun- 
tain on the west side of the Valley, it developed that there was 
at least one praying man in the company, for that man wheel- 
ed his horse, went back and, kneeling beside the Captain, 
offered a fervent petition, commending him to a merciful God. 
The survivors of McNeill's Rangers do not need to be told at 
this late day that the man was Nelson Kiracoffe, a lovable 
character whose piety commanded the respect, as his courage 
did the admiration of his comrades in arms. 

All possible haste was made to get the prisoners out of the 
Valley. The guard on duty at the bridge, with others who 
had escaped with their horses and arms, harrassed the rear of 
our column for several miles, their shots, however, flying wide 
of the mark — perhaps intentionally vagrant to avoid striking 
their own men, for the predominance of blue coats in the line 
suggested a company of Federals rather than Confederates. 
Trailing far up the mountain side, a haltwasmade and a coun- 
cil held: what should be done with the prisoners, for there 

13 



was no hope of reaching Early's army or a Confederate prison. 
They were paroled. Sworn on the virgin rocks and released, 
they scampered down the mountain like children let out of 
school . 

The man who had served as guide through the eventful 
night and had rendered valuable service in many ways, was 
Captain HughRamsey Koontz, Company K of the 7th Virginia 
Cavalry, Rosser's brigade. He was a native of Mt. Jackson. 
On taking leave of the Rangers, after the release of the prison- 
ers, Captain Koontz was invited to select one of the best of the 
captured horses. He was not long in making choice. With 
scant apology, this writer was prevailed on to dismount. He 
took my horse — but a few hours before the Yankee Captain's 
horse, a glossy bay, with mettle to make good every mark of 
excellence which its graceful form presaged. Yet now, there 
is but little doubt, the episode shared the irony of fate. If 
Captain Koontz was on that horse four days later, which is 
quite probable, the spirited beast "made good" by returning 
to its own kith, kin and color, if not to its own country; for the 
gallant Koontz, leading the 7th Virginia Cavalry in a charge 
on the Orkney Springs road, fell mortally wounded, and the 
riderless horse dashed into the enemy's lines. 

From the mountainside Parsons was dispatched on a fresh 
horse to Moore field, fifty miles west, to bring Mrs. McNeill to 
her wounded husband. For two nights and near noon of the 
third day Parsons had been almost continuously in the saddle. 
Life would be a failure should there be no opportunity for a 
nap. No surprise then or blame either, if in that third night, 
while pressing over the Howard's Lick Mountain, a brush of 

14 



the tree limbs in his face awoke him where — he knew not where. 
He had lost his way. Perhaps the new Yankee horse, already 
inoculated by the rider with the guerrilla spirit, had taken to 
the bushes as a natural result. Nevertheless, Parsons was soon 




. ■ ■ * 




I 




J 

i 



Lieutenant I. S. Welton. 



back in the road, and before day dawn the sorrowful message 
be bore was breaking the bej.rt of Mis. McNeill. 



15 



The regretful, not to say the aggravating, feature in the 
case of Captain McNeill was our having to leave him in what 
was then practically the enemy's territory; and no one felt that 
more keenly than himself. He had been a prisoner once. In 
the early part of the war, in Missouri, he had fallen into the 
hands of the enemy, being slightly wounded at the time, but 
made his escape, and pioneered his way by a tortuous route to 
the South Branch Valley in Hardy County, \V. Va. His 
prison experience was short but acute. It had deepened his 
horror of capture, as it had also kindled his courage with a 
new fire. From the hour of his escape, if not before, he was 
a strenuous fighter. Toward the prisoner he was uniformly 
considerate and humane, not to say sympathetic; but the 
armed foe he fronted with an all-consuming and relentless 
purpose. The small revolver at his side rarely came from its 
cover. His trusty weapon was a double-barrel shot gun, loaded 
with buck shot, and he coveted close range. 

The method of warfare adopted by General Francis Ma- 
rion harmonized with McNeill's nature and environments — tio 
spring a surprise on the enemy and effectually disable him be- 
fore he could grasp the situation, and although he rarely 
brought into action a tithe of the men that Marion commanded, 
yet in skill of leadership aiwi feat of arms, the achievements 
of McNeill transcend those of the Revolutionary hero. 

To recount his captures would be to write a history of his 
operations, which is not the purpose of this narrative, yet an 
example maybe given: By daybreak attack, September 11, 
1863, with his men dismounted, he surprised a camp of the 
First West Virginia Infantry, six companies, under Major 

lb 



Stephenson, on Cemetery Hill, near Moorefield, and captured 
the entire outfit, except the Major, who escaped half clad in 
the darkness with a few of his men. Among the prisoners 
taken were 3 captains, 5 lieutenants and 144 privates. Mc- 
Neill's casualties were Lieut. Welton and W. H. Maloney 
painfully, but not seriously, wounded. 

Having said this much, it is but just to add that when 
Lieut. Jesse C. McNeill succeeded to the Captaincy he was no less 
daring and successful than his father, as the following incident 
will indicate: Three miles north of Moorefield, November 27. 
1864, with less than fifty men, in open daylight and a clear 
field, he led the charge against 150 Federal Calvary command- 
ed by Lieut. -Col. R. E. Fleming, who occupied a strong posi- 
tion and was supported by a piece of artillery; but the young 
Captain fell on them with such desperate intent that they were 
soon dislodged, and. having put them to rout, he directed a 
squad to pi ess their rear, while himself, with the remaining 
fragment of his force, swept across the Old Fields, taking a 
short cut, and intercepted the fleeing column at the junction 
of the Old Maid's Lane and the main road, where a hand to 
hand encounter ensued with sabers and the butts of empty pis- 
tols. He captured their artillery, wagon and ambulance, and 
the large number of killed, wounded and prisoners taken, left 
but a fraction of the enemy to escape. The incident has addi- 
tional significance when it is remembered that Colon-el Flem- 
ing had been equipped and sent out with special orders to 
•"capture, destroy or otherwise annihilate McNeill." That 
night McNeill camped at the southern edge of Moorefield, using 
the Court House in the town as a garrison for the prisoners. 

17 



The next morning at d.iy break a detachment of Colonel Flem- 
ing's force, which had been dispatched by another route to act 
in conjunction with him, entered the Moorefield Valley, and, 
not having learned of the Colonel's defeat the evening before, 
dashed into the town. McNeill rose from his blanket in fight- 
ing trim and hurled them back through the streets, anticipat- 
ing a morning meal in the ship? of another bitch of prisoners; 
but those Y mkees were mounted on rice horses which dis- 
tanced their pursurers, and in getting out of the Valley they 
antedated the (lying machine by fifty years. 

At the time of the Mt. Jackson incident, the Confederate 
records at Richmond show, McNeill had captured 2, GOO pris- 
oners — about forty prisoners for each man in active service. 
A reputable authority on the war says of the Rangers: "It 
has been a mystery how they operated so long and so success- 
fully in a territory often occupied by overwhelming forces of 
the enemy, and yet they seldom or never made a miscalculation 
or a fatal blunder. Whether they were assailants or acting on 
the defensive they were equally successful." 

The Rev. Mr. Weller and his family vacated their own 
bedroom for Captain McNeill, and while still in the flurry of 
the events of the morning, several wounded Federals were 
brought fio n the camp and left at their house. The peril of 
sheltering a wounded rebel, especially McNeill, whom Sheridan 
had designated as " the most dangerous and daring of all the 
bushwackers," it was hoped would be measurably relieved, if 
not altogether neutralized, by the presence of wounded Feder- 
als in the same house. But that hope was dashed. A suspi- 
cion soon developed into a probability that the wounded Con- 

18 



federate was Captain McNeill. The first squad of Federals 
who bolted into the house to. make investigation were informed 
that the man's name was John Hanson, which was tru ', bill 
not the whale truth, for his full name was John Hanson Mc- 
Neill. To escape participation in that ruse, the preacher host 
for the time being, joined the " choir invisible." Those in- 




Partial view of Weller house, showing one-story end in which McNeill lay. 



dustrious Federals showad no interest whatever in their own 
wounded comrades in the same house, one of whom died that 
night and was buried in the garden by the preacher. 

A day or two later a Confederate deserter, who claimed to 
be able to identify McNeill, was secured and brought to the 

19 



house; but in the interval Mrs.Wellerhad cut oft' his heavy beard 
and long hair, and had so transformed his appearance that 
the man failed to recognize him; or, it may be, the guilty de- 
serter, rebuked and smitten in conscience by the reproachful 
glances of Mrs. Welter, who recognized him as a former ac- 
quaintance, chose to falsify rather than betray. At any rate, 
he declared the wounded man was not McNei41. 

Meanwmile the services of Dr. Leonidas Triplett, of Mt. 
Jackson, were secured. Dr. Triplett w r as an eminent physician 
and surgeon, with a wide experience in army practice, and 
withal a w T arm-hearted Southerner, two of whose sons, Joseph 
I. and John E., w r ere members of McNeill's Rangers. The 
latter is how a clergymen of the Presbyterian Church. 

Before Dr. Triplett made an examination of the wound, 
the general impression was that Captain McNeill had been shot 
by one of his own men. The ball had entered near the spinal 
column on the left side, between the lower rib and thigh, making 
a wound not unlike the fatal wound of President Garfield. 
Suspicion at first pointed to a certain man as having seized 
the opportunity for perpetrating the dastardly deed in revenge 
for a petty grievance. That man w r as an in terloper who dropped 
into camp a few days before, and disappeared shortly after the 
Mt. Jackson incident. A maturer judgment, however, has dis- 
credited that suspicion. 

Several years after the war a man who had served in the 
Federal Army claimed the distinction of having shot McNeill. 
His statement was that he had been captured and disarmed by 
one of the Rangers and left standing beside a horse, but that he 
had retained a small pocket pistol, and with that, reachingover 

20 



the neck of the horse, shot the captain. Conceding that the 
man was there, li is story has the general air of improbability, 
and is contradicted by the nature of the wound; that is, if the 
shot was fired from the ground, as he asserts, the course of the 
ball should have been upward, whereas its course was down- 
ward. The ball entered where there was no bone to deflect, 
and taking a downward course lodged in the groin. Besides. 
if it had occurred, as the Federal soldier claimed, the pre- 
sumption is the Captain would have been able to give some 
intelligible account of it; for in the few weeks in which he 
survived he discussed, at intervals, the situation. He could 
not explain how it occurred, but there was one thing of which 
he was definitely and painfully certain — he knew WHEN it 
occurred . 

The only rational explanation, and the one in which the 
Captain concurred is, that in the dash against the first row of 
tents, himself a few paces in front leading the charge, when the 
firing was reckless and in the dark, he received his death wound. 
At that juncture, it will be recalled, there was a pause in the 
charge, unusual and mysterious as it was awkward and peril- 
ous, and near that spot, inside the line of the first tent, is 
where Parsons found him lying on the ground. The eonsen- 
sus of opinion is, he was accidentally shot by one of his own 
men. 

While Dr. Triplet! was giving attention to the patient, 
the situation became more serious on account of the extreme 
difficulty in obtaining proper nourishment. The resources of 
the country, in which two armies had been alternating for three 
years, were literally exhausted, and at that time the country 

21 



was overrun by detatchments, scouts and stragglers of Sheri- 
dan's army. Taking the chances of capture, John Triplett 
became the lone forager, and scoured the community for chick- 
ens, the broth of which, together with eggs, made up the die- 
tary list. 

Mrs. McNeill had lost no time in reaching the bedside of 
her husband, having crossed two rugged mountains on horse- 
back. No woman could have been more admirably fitted for 
a crisis than Mrs. Jemima Cunningham McNeill, whose noble 
figure and graceful dignity of manner made her impressive in 
any circle. Refined and cultured, but not effeminate; re- 
sourceful and courageous, but not masculine; a religionist, 
without fanaticism; a saint, without sanctimony, she was pre- 
pared to discharge the double function of nurse and priest. 
Through her ministry, the hope of recovery revived, and the 
heart of her husband was blessed. If the former was destined 
to an early blight, the latter was assured by the presence and 
proof of those qualities which survive the tomb. Two hearts 
that for many years had been one in love, had become one in 
religious faith and experience. 

Over a fortnight had passed when the Federal Army be- 
gan to fall back, and, camping at Rude's Hill for the night, 
Sheridan made the Weller home his headquarters. After sup- 
per, General Sheridan expressed a desire to see the wounded 
Confederate, of whom he had heard, and whose identity had 
not yet been established. At the bedside he made sundry in- 
quiries of the wounded man concerning the attack and capture 
of the Federals at the bridge, and then asked " are you not 
McNeill himself?" To which the Captain replied, "I am." 

22 



One of Sheridan's staff, a surgeon, who was in the room at the 
same time, stepped to the bedside and, extending his hand, 
said " Captain McNeill, I know you, and am sorry to find you 
in this condition. I was once a prisoner in your hands, and 
your treatment was so magnanimous, I now hold myself ready 
to render you any service in my power." 

The next morning on leaving, the surgeon brought a sup- 
ply of nourishment and drugs, not omitting a standard brand 
of liquid spirits. 

But Sheridan's farewell that morning was not unlike in 
horror the dying Herod's scheme of massacre to make sure of 
mourners at his funeral. All the outbuildings of the Weller 
home were fired by his order, the proximity of some of them, 
it must have been known, would endanger if not destroy the 
dwelling. Fortunately, Early's cavalry pressing the Federal 
rear, arrived in time to help fight fire and save the dwelling, 
on one side of which the heat had already melted the window 
panes. 

There was an ebb and How in the currents of the two 
armies. For several days it was hard to tell which army was 
in possession of that section of the Valley. Sheridan mean- 
while, proceeding on the principle that a bird in hand is worth 
two in the bush, ordered a detail and ambulance to move Mc- 
Neill down the Valley to a secure place in the Federal lines; 
but when the ambulance arrived, McNeill could not be found. 
The Weller family had conjectured the ominous silence of 
General Sheridan, and, but a few hours before, with the assist- 
ance of others, had placed McNeill in a Confederate ambulance 
en route to Harrisonburg. 

23 



For their unwearied kindness to Captain andMrs. McNeill, 
the Weller family deserve the highest commendation. The 
last message to this writer from McNeill's devoted and gallant 
son, Jesse, who died while this sketch was being prepared, was 
an expression of warm and grateful affection for the Wellers. 

Jn Hill's hotel in Harrisonburg, Captain McNeill lingered 
until November 10, 1864, when, in the presence of his family, 
Mrs. McNeill, Miss Emma, Jesse C. and Hanson, and two 
nephews, Edward and Thomas Williams, of Hardy County — 
like Stonewall Jackson, also wounded by his own men, like him 
also, he passed over the river to rest under the shade of the 
trees. 

He was buried in the Harrisonburg cemetery with Masonic 
honors. Two months later the body was removed and interred 
in the cemetery at Moorefield, where it now reposes, surround- 
ed by many of his fallen officers and men, and surmounted by 
a graceful shaft, the lone sentinel on the hill top keeping watch 
over the beautiful Valley where he was born, and the scene of 
many of his daring and brilliant exploits. 



24 




Captain Jesse C. McNeill 



MUSTER ROLL 

THIS roster includes, as far as can be secured, the entire en- 
rollment of McNeill's Rangers during the war, but only 
about one-third of the number were on the effective list at any 
one time: 

McNeill, John H., Captain Boggs, Augustus A., Lieut. Hopkins, David E., Sergeant 

McNeill, Jesse C, Captain Vandiver, Joseph L., Lieut- Little, George, Sergeant 

Welton Isaac S., Lieutenant Taylor, Harrison, 1st Sergeant Judy, Isaac S., Sergeant 

Dolan, Bernard J.. Lieutenant Daily, Chas. James, Sergeant Miles, William, Sergeant 



Acker. John 
Alexander, M. S- 
Allen, Green M. 
Allen, J. Herman 
Allen, I. 
Albright, James 
Armentrout, Sol. 
Athey, William N- 
Anderson, Nath?n H- 

Bacon, P. E. 
Baldwin, Henry 
Bare, William 
Barnum, Joseph V. 
Bean, David F. 
Bean, Fred. 
Bierkamp, William C 
Bennett, Henry 
Bobo, Jack 
Bowman, Jack 
Blakemore, William 
Blakemore, George 
Branson, William 
Brathwaite, Newton 
Browning, Ed. R. 

Clary, Lloyd Lowndes 
Clary, Richard L. 
Clary, Thaddeus W. 
Carson, John 



Cain, Thomas 
Carrell, George 
Cleaver, William 
Clutter, Jeff. W. 
Cannon, Jack 
Congar, David 
Connelly, Jack 
Cooper, J. 
Coleman, Jack 
Cokeley, John 
Cokley, George 
Coffman, Joseph 
Cosner, Wayne 
Cresap, Van S. 
Chisholm, W. Wallace 
Crawford, James W. 
Childs, Benj. 
Cunningham, John H. 
Cunningham, Geo. F. 

Davis, Rezin C. 
Davis, Frank 
Daugherty, Samuel 
Decvemon, Peter 
Dyce, Samuel 
Dyer, Robin 
Duffey, J. W. 
Duval, H. Rieman 

Enright, E. C. 



Fay, John B. 
Fisher, John O. 
Frederick, Lewis 

Gray Sinclare K. 
Grady, George 

Harness, Geo. S. 
Harness, W. W. 
Hack, Andrew C. 
Harper, John 
Harbaugh, Adam 
Harvey, John L, 
Halterman, John 
Hess, James K. P. 
Heavener, Jesse 
Hallar, C- Ritchie 
Hill, Ervin C. 
High, John W. 
Hopkins, William 
Houck, J. William 
Houseworth, John 
Hoard, Hiram 
Hutton, John 
Hoye, Wm. D. 
Hunter, W. 
Hutter. C. R. 

Jacobs, Geo. W. 
Johnson, Fisher 



26 



MUSTER ROLL— Continued. 



Johnson, Charles 
Johnson, John 
Jones, Samuel M. 
Jones. H. Clay 
Judy, David 

Kellerman, Henry 
Kiracofe, Nelson 

Larey, Matt 
Liggett, Robert 
Logan, Lloyd D. 
Long, John R. 
Lobb, Robert G. 
Lynn, John G- 
Lynn, Sprigg S. 
Luke, William 

Mace, John 
Martin, Wdlian 
Martin, Taylor 
Maginnis, James 
Markwood, J. W. 
Markwood, George 
Mason, James W. 
Maloney. Wm. H. 
Magalis, William 
Maupin, A. Lincoln 
Michael, Isaac 
Miller. Simon 
Miller, Rader 
Miller, Charles F. 
Miller, James 
Mills, Reuben 
Mitchell, James 
Mountz, John D. 
Moore, Samuel 
McQuade, John 



Neville, Thornton 
Nichols, Charles W. 
Norris, William 

Ohaver, M. V. 
Ohaver, John W- 
Overmon, John 
O'Rourke, John 
Oats, Isaac E. 

Parker, Joseph A. 
Painter, N. B- 
Parsons, David M. 
Pennybaker, J. Ed. 
Pool, William H. 

Reed, John 
Ridder, Henry W. 
Richardson, John 
Richards, 3 in. Frank. 
Riddleberger, Joseph 
Roger, John 
Robinson, I. N. 
Rosser, Robert R. 
Rhodes, Oliver L. 



Seymour, Abel 
Seymour, William 
Seymour, Henry 
Showalter, David R. 
Showalter, John 
Shore, Harry W. 
Sanders, James 
Shafer, Samuel H. 
Smith, John 
Smith, Daniel 
Seaman, William 



Seaman, Jacob 
Shytiger, William 
Shryock, James 
Scott, F. 

Shipman, Jonathan 
Shoemaker, William 
Steele, John 
Stewart. Fred A. 
Stickley, J. Snyder 
Spalding, B. William 

Tabb, Peyton 
Tabb, Harlan P. 
Temple, James M. 
Taylor. George R. 
Tevebaugh, Isaac 
Tucker, Samuel T. 
Tucker, Erasmus 
Trumbo, Morgan G. 
Triplett. Joseph I. 
Triplett, John E. 
Trusheart, Henry M. 

Vallandigham, Jas. L. 
Vandiver, George V. 
Van Pelt, John 

Watkins, Charles W. 
Westmoreland, M. 
Welsh, James 
White, Charles W- 
Wotring, Benj. F. 
Whitmer, John 
Williamson, John B. 
Wilson, John 
Wilson, James 
Williams. V. Osceola. 



27 



A MONTH after General Lee had 
surrendered at Appomattox, Cap- 
tain Jesse C. McNeill with a fragment 
of his company met, by previous agree- 
ment, a detachment of Federal cavalry 
at the residence of David Gibson, a 
mile west of Romney, West Virginia, 
and were paroled and disbanded May 
10, 1865. 



28 



JUL 27 1912 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




011293 284 7 f 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



011 293 284 7 f 



